At Your Side
by AKJ4
Summary: She's acting… odd he surmises; flitting between tasks, fidgeting, talking too quickly and too eagerly about whatever comes to mind. If he didn't know better, he'd think she'd picked up all his bad habits overnight.


**At Your Side**

She's acting… odd he surmises; flitting between tasks, fidgeting, talking too quickly and too eagerly about whatever comes to mind. If he didn't know better, he'd think she'd picked up all his bad habits overnight.

And she keeps him close, or rather, keeps close _to_ him. He'd been forced to restrain her from following him into the bathroom earlier when nature called. A blush had bloomed on her cheeks, but she was still waiting for him when he was finished; shifting ornaments and wiping away specs of dust in a futile attempt to make it look like she had reason to be in their bedroom. When he exited into the office and then to the main living area, she'd waited mere moments before shadowing him again.

He knows the reason. Of course he does. He's not blind to the significance of the date, of today. He knew weeks ago when she announced Gates agreed to her taking leave today.

He knows why she didn't sleep last night and why she likely won't succumb to slumber until tomorrow rolls around.

Despite having some knowledge of Kate's mindset, he tries to get her to tell him herself through gentle questioning so he can determine just how deep the problem runs. But her evasive response is unusually unconvincing. Her eyes hold such desperation that he can see she is on the verge of fully-fledged panic. So he backs off and changes the subject, resolving to maintain a watchful eye.

So he's gentle with her, allowing her to follow, and fill silences and touch. It's the least he can do; after all this time he still carries some guilt. But it's more than just his conscience; he loves her. And if all she needs on this one day is his presence and compliance to having a shadow for the day, then he is more than happy to acquiesce.

When afternoon rolls around and tension is becoming more apparent on her features, he coaxes her onto the sofa with him. A film is carefully chosen – no weddings, car accidents or fires – and they watch cuddled together as the images flicker against the makeshift movie screen in his office. Her grip on him is a little tighter than normal but he can deal.

After a while, she begins to shift against him, an action which he knows is an attempt to stave off the pull of exhaustion. There is no relaxing her, such are her efforts, so he offers to make her a coffee in the hope she will at least settle with caffeine aiding her campaign to stay awake. He accepts her offer of unnecessary help and when they return to sit again, she does maintain a certain degree of stillness within the curve of his arm.

After the movie, she retreats to use the bathroom, and he takes their discarded mugs through to the kitchen. He has just finished rinsing them and turns around in time to see his wife stumble through the doorway of the study and into the main living area. He advances towards her as soon as his takes in the utter panic on her expression; she was not quick enough in her attempt to align her features to a more neutral arrangement upon setting her eyes on him. Nevertheless, she still quivers without control within his arms. Her breaths are rather too rapid and he fights his instinctive urge to question and instead employs his most soothing ministrations: stroking long, slow lines down her back; cupping her head protectively with gentle massaging fingers; and murmuring soothing nonsense into the delicate shell of her ear.

Eventually she calms, and embarrassment takes over her demeanour. Still, she accompanies him to the kitchen and watches in silence while he prepares dinner. He glances over at her periodically but she has her head bowed, studiously examining her nails, only glancing up at him from time to time as if to reassure herself that he is still here. A sigh closely followed by a yawn threaten to escape him but he represses them both. Having a clingy and upset Beckett is exhausting, mainly because of his constant worry over her. Yet he would never wish to be elsewhere. She's come a long way from the woman who would run away and hide her emotions from him. The last thing he wants is for her to feel that her search for comfort and reassurance is burdening him, and so revert back to her old ways.

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><p>It's only later when they lie together in bed that she explains. The clock has just tripped past midnight, a new day has begun, and her voice is soft, signalling her eventual acquiescence to relaxation.<p>

"It's silly… I just didn't want to let you out of my sight in case… In case it happened again. Castle, I won't be able to bare another two months of not knowing where you are of even if-" Her voice breaks at this and even with her newly relaxed state, she shudders with a sob. He cuddles her closer, a protective reflex, and her next words are uttered against his neck. "Silly superstitions, huh," she eventually gulps with an attempt at levity. "That's supposed to be your forté."

He chuckles at the gentle teasing, even as he aches for her. Despite the time that has passed, he knows the events of a year ago yesterday, their failed first wedding and the ensuing months, will forever stay with her. He murmurs an apology into her hair, but she shakes her head.

"Not your fault." They've been through this before; his guilt, her pain. "The good outweighs the bad, Castle. Moments like this, when we're together… They make everything that's happened worth it." She leans up on an elbow then, eyeing him seriously. "But if you disappear on me again, I _will_ shoot you."

**_Fin_**

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><p><em>A.N: Hope you enjoyed this little fic. Thank you for reading!<em>


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